Another Golden Day of Peace
by hpkiwi
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, 1999, and Harry and Ginny have some big plans for the day. First, sightseeing around London, followed by taking Teddy out for lunch. In the second and third chapters, the pair meet up with Ron and Hermione to reminisce, and finally go to see Hagrid and Slughorn. Harry bumps into a familiar face along the way, much to Ginny's amusement.
1. Another Day in Paradise

_A/N: Hi! Yes, this is a multi-chapter fic taking part on Valentine's Day. A few points - 1: it's not all fluff. There's some bittersweet moments, particularly in ch2. 2: This fic, although sticking to the novels' timeline, does contain some references to the films, particularly the 'waitress' scene in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince in this chapter. There's also a joke aimed at the much-maligned 'shoelace' scene in the same movie. The chapter title's not particularly original - its from a certain famous Phil Collins hit. Also featuring an in-joke about the play Equs, starring Daniel Radcliffe._

 _CH1: Another day in paradise_

 _February 14, 1999_

As their feet touched solid ground with barely a tap, Harry smiled as he looked around their frosty surroundings. Proceeding to whip the Invisibility Cloak off himself and Ginny, Harry's moment of bliss was interrupted with a loud yelp as a hyperactive squirrel hooked its claws into his trouser leg, his girlfriend's laughter shattering the still morning air. Shaking the rapscallion rodent off, he sighed and motioned for Ginny to follow him.

"Welcome to Hyde Park," he whispered. "Figured it was time to look around it, now we're, you know, together and…."

"Not chasing Dark Wizards?" Ginny finished for him cheekily, elbowing his ribs and draping her right hand over his shoulders. In spite of everything that had happened, Harry chuckled. Mornings with the radiant, youngest member of the Weasley clan had been the best form of therapy for all of the events of the War. Once they'd resumed their relationship, that was. And that had proven to be far more difficult than Harry had anticipated.

With a temper matching her mother's, a stubbornness outstripping any of her brothers, and a fierce loyalty to those she loved, it had taken almost two months of occasional hand-holding, periodic pecks on the lips or cheek, multiple nights of silence between the two and several blazing (and one-sided) rows before Harry had succeeded in resuming a stable relationship with Ginevra Molly Weasley. Then again, she had lost one of her siblings in battle alongside her favourite former Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and her role-model Nymphadora, had to co-run the DA with Neville under the oppressive Carrow-led regime at Hogwarts for the better part of a year, and had also been forced to endure the piercing agony of believing he, Harry, had been murdered by Voldemort, he reasoned. Not to mention how hacked off she'd been being locked out of the Horcrux hunt. After all, as she'd bellowed at him one stressful evening, _she_ could've cautioned them all about how to treat the Locket, what with her experience with the Diary. Naturally, his only defence had been to splutter incoherently.

However, Harry was almost entirely certain those periodic eruptions had been her way of saying _I love you, always did and were indescribably worried about what you were facing out there_ , and as a result, their reconciliation once it started had been smooth. Of course, it had been helped along by Ginny deciding on his birthday to tie up loose ends from one year previously exactly and ensure Ron never barged in on them (with Hermione's active assistance, he suspected.)

"So…" Ginny interrupted his faraway thoughts with a peck on his cheek. "Where to next?" Harry smiled as he looked out across the partially frozen Serpentine, where some brilliantly white swans were gliding along the unfrozen portion of the channel.

"The Mall and Buckingham Palace first?" he offered. "Then maybe…I dunno, Harrods or Oxford St before we pick up Teddy from Andromeda's. Did you know that Hermione had to Confund about five people at Hamley's Toys to rescue Ron this Christmas break?" Ginny chuckled and lay her head on Harry's shoulder.

"Absolutely typical, the ruddy prat," she snorted. "Confused Galleons and Pounds again, did he?"

"Yep. George and Bill have promised to take him to Harrods' at some point to give him a lesson on Muggle shopping."

"Mental. If only he listened to Hermione instead of trying to bluff his way through…"

The conversation subsequently moved onto other topics, such as the Muggle governing system (here, Harry desperately wished he had Hermione to fully answer Ginny's queries), and also matters such as NEWT assessments, how Professors Slughorn and McGonagall were doing, and countless other topics that Harry would barely recall later. But as they lined up beside a whole bunch of Muggle tourists from around the world braving the icy temperatures outside the Palace's front gates, Harry reflected that for the first time since those stolen few moments at the end of Sixth Year, he felt like he was an ordinary teenager in an ordinary relationship. No odd stares walking down the street, no need to be looking over one's shoulder, no immediate troubles whatsoever.

And he loved it.

This first weekend date with Ginny in the Muggle world was going swimmingly.

...

As it approached Ten-thirty, Harry was distinctly regretting introducing Ginny to fast food ("This is what you get when you date a Quidditch captain," Ginny had said as she noisily wolfed down another decent helping of hash browns), and was also pointedly embarrassed by another situation immediately afterwards as they both crossed Piccadilly Circus onto Oxford St.

"What's that?" she'd exclaimed, pointing to the back of a Routemaster bus where a large poster labelled _EQUS_ and an image of a shirtless young man with a vague resemblance to Harry himself was emblazoned.

"Oh…" he'd replied. "That's a play. There's lots of them in the West End, everything from Shakespeare…."

"What's that? Sounds like some sort of venereal disease."

"…never mind, all the way to modern stuff. Often, Muggles take their kids to see these, but some aren't kid-friendly at all."

"What do you mean?"

"Violence, swearing and….." He didn't like the way Ginny's eyebrows had raised, and her pupils were almost shooting out sparks of mischief as she stared back at him in a manner that was simultaneously disarming, sweet and suggestive, becoming positively hypnotic as she drew nearer.

"All the more reason to go along," she breathed back, her mouth barely inches from his earlobe, making him recoil slightly. "Sometimes nudity too, if my source is accurate."

"N….no," he stammered.

"Where's your adventure?" she chided, playfully smacking his arm. "Hermione gave me a lesson on Muggle theatre right under Professor Binns' nose – not that that's difficult, mind you. And of course I know about Shakespeare – who do you take me for, Ron? Going would be totally worth it to wind him up. Then again, doesn't he still think I've seen your Hungarian Horntail tattoo?"

Harry gulped widely. Now, in the middle of one of London's biggest pedestrianized areas, was _not_ the place to be even suggesting intimate matters. Even if they were a total fabrication. Then again, discussing such matters embarrassed him anytime, anywhere, which of course was precisely the incentive for Ginny to needle him.

"Ginny," he replied hesitantly. "You know how protective and sensitive about these sorts of things Ron is. We don't want to give him the wrong impression." Ginny snorted again.

"Oh _please_ ," she replied with some considerable mirth. "Ron swallowed the whole 'tattoo on your chest' lie hook, line and sinker, despite the fact that I hadn't even touched your upper button – _then_ , that is."

Such comments were always guaranteed to make he, Harry, flush madly. As they strolled back towards Hyde Park hand in hand (and a guaranteed safe spot for Disapparating without attracting undue attention), Harry reflected on how far they'd come from the days of the singing Valentine in his Second Year. Her evolution (or were those traits always there, but buried as a result of the traumatic events of that year? He still didn't know) into the amusing, athletic, thoroughly irrepressible and all round stunning young woman he was now idiotically broom-tail over broom-head mad for was something to treasure, as was their refusal to let a war and all its accompanying grief permanently derail their relationship. Not to mention her ability to thoroughly embarrass Ron anytime, anywhere.

Conversely, there were the frequent times when it was he who the joke was on. But without that particular aspect of her character, he reasoned, she wouldn't be Ginny Weasley. That and the temper.

And the way she was, flaws and all, was absolutely perfect in his own biased opinion, he'd long concluded.

After all, the occasional suggestive joke at his expense was probably far more romantic than dragging her to the café around the corner where he, Ron and Hermione had been attacked by Rowle and Dolohov, Harry reasoned.

...

After visiting Andromeda briefly, it was time for their date to continue with Teddy in tow in a pram. After Harry had Apparated them to another scenic location, this time just outside of London, Ginny idly whistled to herself as she pushed Teddy. Looking over to gauge Harry's reaction she noticed with a shock Harry's demeanour had become far more mellow and sober. She slid her spare hand into his, pushing the pram with her right.

"What are you thinking about?" she whispered with some mild concern. Harry started guiltily at her voice, then sighed wistfully.

"Funny, isn't it, the places you Apparate to when you're thinking about the past. Any opportunity I got two summers ago, I'd get away from Privet Drive. No questions asked; they preferred it anyway. Took a few trains around London, lots in fact. Sometimes I'd take one out here, to Surbiton and Hampton Court. Wandering up and down the Thames banks here sort of helped me come to terms with the Prophecy, and with what happened to Sirius."

As Ginny resolutely ignored the somewhat disapproving stares from a handful of elder gentlemen (Teddy's little fuzzy tufts of hair, she noticed, had turned a vivid Weasley scarlet), she squeezed Harry's hand. She'd previously told Harry about the time she'd finally confronted her old demons in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom after a painful night's detention with Amycus Carrow, and knew fully how old memories could draw people to a certain location, even subconsciously.

"You didn't need to face that pain alone," she replied gently. "Unlike the previous year, Hermione, Ron and yes, myself were just one owl away – Dumbledore learnt his mistakes from locking you and Sirius away from human contact." Harry shrugged and looked out over the castle grounds in the distance. The Muggle castles she'd come across were, she'd had to admit, pathetically puny compared to Hogwarts. And just how did British Royalty, not to mention the various Lords and Ladies, enjoy their vast grounds with not a single backyard Quidditch game to break the monotony? She turned her attention back to the subject at hand.

"And you know another thing…" she added, and this time, Harry looked at her, the faraway expression in his eyes replaced with an intense focus on her.

"…You could have told me about the Prophecy. All of it. For goodness sake, I was brought up by Bill on stories of you fighting Voldemort from your cot – it wouldn't have been that much of a revelation, considering your background with stopping Quirrell, saving me, and dueling _him_ all before you understood girls – wait, you still don't," she quipped, making Harry chuckle as he squeezed back.

"I couldn't have, Ginny," he said quietly. "If I'd told you about Horcruxes, the Prophecy….everything that Dumbledore was telling me, I'd have only put you in more danger." Ginny felt her hackles raise at that stupid old excuse that was about as worn out as the Whomping Willow.

"Yeah, getting possessed and abducted was really safe…," she shot back before registering the hurt on Harry's face and stopping herself. Being with Harry really had its unhealthy side-effects, she reasoned. Such as practicing self-control when frustrated.

"That's not what I meant," said Harry hastily. "Oh, fine then, it was," he finished exasperatedly. "Look, Gin, I'm sorry. You can handle yourself, but….still. I worry, all right. Part and parcel of being a boyfriend." At that, Ginny had to smile, as Harry began to stammer more, look at his ever-badly tied shoelaces, and become so shockingly scarlet Ginny wondered for a moment if Harry would metamorphose into a tomato.

"Anyway, I also didn't want to tell you because, well, what happened between us that year, that…..that was the highlight of that year. If I'd told you about being a marked man, well, either nothing would've happened, or else it would have been ruined. And I just wished I could be….normal. Even if it was for only five minutes at a time with you. That was what drove me in those last few weeks, and…."

Most other girls would've probably gushed about how sweet Harry was, Ginny reasoned. Not her. She preferred a more direct approach. Harry's increasingly erratic ramblings were cut off by an _oomph!_ as her lips met his and her spare hand got lost in his hair. It was only when Harry tried to clumsily reciprocate, brushing Teddy's pram in the process, that she remembered where they were and who they were with. With an involuntary squeak, she broke free, noting with some satisfaction Harry's eyes had become comically glazed and his hair was if anything even messier than usual.

"Shoelaces," Ginny pointed out cheekily, staring at Harry's right sneaker. "You'll be nineteen, and passing your first Auror tests this year, so I _won't_ help you with them this time. You need to learn how to do things by yourself," she added, in a mock severe voice, wagging her finger comically. As Harry grumbled while tying his errant laces, Ginny checked once again on Teddy, who now had bubblegum-pink hair like his late mother had once worn. Hopefully his metamorphosing would be restrained while in a café, she reasoned.

"Nice catch!" called out a young female passer-by with some sarcasm, pointing behind her to where Harry Potter, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, Conqueror of the Chamber, The Chosen One, Triwizard Champion and The Boy Who Lived, was struggling frantically with his most challenging foe – a shoelace. Ginny gave a wry smile. "I know. What can a girl do?" she said resignedly, ignoring the muffled protest from Harry, who had stood up, looking satisfied, before the shoelace unraveled yet again.

Life really was great.

...

It was an odd choice for lunch – a train station – but then again, Harry Potter was full of surprises, Ginny concluded.

"Don't tell me this is your idea of commemorating how we first met," she whispered. Her ten year old self had after all acted like a brat trying to get onto the Hogwarts Express that time. It was still mortifying to think that performance was in front of none other than The Boy Who Lived. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I'd forgotten," he admitted. "No, this was another destination I went to a few times – oh _bloody hell, no_." For one fleeting moment, he looked as if he was going to grab the Invisibility Cloak and disappear.

"Bit of a tosser, really, aren't you?" came a young female voice, and Ginny turned to see a rather attractive young Muggle woman with frizzy hair, smirking slightly. "Long time, no see." Covering for Harry's panic, Ginny nodded kindly at the woman and accepted the two steaming cappuccinos.

"I….I don't mean to be too much trouble, but can we get some milk for Teddy here in a sipper bottle?" It seemed Harry had once again found his voice as he gestured to the pram where Teddy, now sporting jet-black hair, was happily sucking his thumb.

"Certainly," the woman replied with a smile that encompassed Ginny. "Good for you, mate. He looks so much like you." As she hurried off, Ginny turned to Harry with what she knew was a broad smirk on her face, while Harry stared back as if he'd encountered an Acromantula.

"You two have history, I see," she teased. Harry, wide eyed, tried to splutter a reply, but she cut him off.

"One word at a time, Harry. Please. And of course you two did. Since when were you a frequent customer at the Surbiton Station café?" Her tone was softly mocking, not accusatory. If she'd really suspected Harry had committed adultery, her first course of action would have been casting _Sectumsempra_ in such a manner that he'd never have children.

Harry, relaxing at the obvious teasing, chuckled as another Southwest train roared away from Platform One.

"Okay, okay. If you must know, I was a little bored that summer. And lonely," he finished lamely.

"And did you two…."

"Oh, nothing ever happened. Though I perhaps was a little stupid reading _The Daily Prophet_ in there, what with the moving pictures. The one time I was going to head to hers, I got interrupted by Dumbledore."

"That sly old wand-blocker," Ginny said idly, trying not to laugh at the thought of Dumbledore prying into his favourite pupil's love life. "He stopped you from having a little magic with that Muggle waitress? And I thought Ron was bad." Harry laughed loudly – they could afford to talk as the waitress was still busy, and there were only a couple of customers around.

"All joking aside," he added, "riding around on those trains really did help, Ginny, I'm sure you can understand."

"I bet," she shot back drolly, raising an eyebrow at him as the waitress returned with Teddy's milk. "Why did she call you a tosser?" Nodding her thanks to the waitress, she began feeding Teddy as Harry grinned sheepishly.

"My fault."

"I bet, what with Dumbledore crashing the prospect of a good date night and some…."

"Not that. She read a headline about me and asked who this 'Harry Potter' was. I just said he was a bit of a tosser."

"Most accurate thing you've ever said, Harry."

"Hey!"

"With you and your infuriating nobility complex, you deserve it," she shot back haughtily as she put Teddy's bottle down and pulled Harry into her embrace.


	2. A Window to the Past

_A/N: Once again, a couple of references to a film, in this case, Prisoner of Azkaban. The chapter title was taken from a soundtrack entry on the PoA Soundtrack by John Williams, and is thematically appropriate, considering Harry thinks about Remus Lupin and Sirius Black quite a bit in this chapter. The reference to Ron exaggerating his injury is from the film also._

 _Chapter 2: A Window to the Past_

The sun had almost set behind the magnificent peaks surrounding Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when their feet touched the ground again, this time outside the wrought-iron gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Although the safety regulations had been loosened, Harry knew Apparating and Disapparating was still impossible. Fortunately, he'd been informed by Professor McGonagall during the last time he'd visited of the simplest way to get in. Poking his wand through the bars, he paused as a deep harmonic tremor reverberated through the gate structure and the gates swung open.

"Impressive," Ginny murmured as Harry, smiling, stowed his wand. They'd been unable to dissuade Andromeda from cooking them some tea, but she and Harry had eventually indulged in the older witch's hospitality, knowing the inherent loneliness Teddy's grandmother was now facing in her house. It also had been worth it, as Andromeda was a fantastic storyteller about Harry's godfather, having been witness to the time when Sirius' mother had discovered he'd stuck his poster of bikini-clad Muggle girls to his bedroom with a permanent sticking charm.

"Part and parcel of being The Chosen One, I guess," he chuckled.

"Just make sure Hermione doesn't hear you say that again. It was bad enough for her when the tadpoles at _Witch Weekly_ started fawning over Ron right after the battle and he got a slightly swollen head about it." Looking at her sideways in the lengthening shadows, Harry smiled fondly. If anyone deserved to get slightly giddy over positive publicity, it was surely his best mate, he thought. Especially after everything he'd been put through. And naturally, him joking about his own self-importance was only done to wind Ginny and Hermione up.

"So, where are we meeting them?" queried Ginny as Harry pulled out his wand again. Looking up at the welcoming and familiar bulk of the Castle, brilliantly lit up, he swallowed the lump in his throat, and recalled the time he and Ron gained a certain bushy-haired and bossy, yet compassionate individual as a friend, and whispered _'Expecto Patronum!'_ As the silver stag shot away towards Gryffindor Tower, Harry turned to face Ginny.

"By the Willow," he replied. "Not the most romantic, I know, but I thought it was time to let Remus know how his son's going. Plus, for better or worse, that tree's sort of been a lynchpin in our misadventures."

"If trees had grudges, you'd be enemy number one," teased Ginny. "Something about a bloody great Ford Anglia and two incompetents smacking into it, no?" Harry opened his mouth in a vain attempt to say something witty back, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of two conjoined silver bubbles metamorphosing into an otter and a terrier, the former being chased by the latter. Eventually, both came to a careening halt as the otter opened its mouth.

"Fifteen minutes will be good, Harry. See you there," came the voice of Hermione, as clear as if she'd been standing in front of them.

"I'll see you there too, slacker," came the words of Ron from the terrier. "You left half a library of parchment behind for me to clear up, you bloody prat." Hermione's otter raised itself onto its haunches to smack the terrier on its jawbone, and just as suddenly as they had appeared, the two creatures vanished.

"Naaaw," Ginny remarked as she stared at the spot where the twin Patronuses had disappeared. "Young love. You know Harry, part of me was sort of surprised when you skipped Year Seven. I'd have thought free dinners, fresh sheets every night, and the opportunity to captain the Gryffindor Team again would've been right up your alley." Harry shrugged as he turned away from her to face the Castle. Several portions of the building such as the Astronomy Tower, were still out of bounds due to the battle damage, but the subsequent invasion of Boggarts had been brought under control, and the School was, by all accounts, now functioning smoothly. Truth be told, the decision had been a difficult one, and he'd wondered almost until Christmas whether the decision to enter the Auror Office was the correct one. No moments beside the tree near the lakeshore with Ginny, no Quidditch and no regular visits to Hagrid (and enduring his granite-like cooking). It was true that he missed Hogwarts dearly.

But the truth was Hogwarts was like a glove that no longer fitted him after the horrors of the previous year. He'd feared that he'd come across a corridor and remember who had perished there and how. Crushed by a giant, or hit with _Sectumsempra_ from Bellatrix…he didn't want to dwell on it.

But Ginny had managed, he knew. Just like after her First Year. He'd long forgotten to count the number of times he'd been in awe of her strength, her grit and determination.

"I….couldn't," he admitted finally. "Not after what had happened. Besides, I really feel like Ron, Neville and I are….I dunno, doing something really useful." He glanced sideways to see Ginny staring at him with the all-too familiar blazing, determined look that even now, freaked him out a little.

"Like I said to you so long ago, you're not happy if you're not chasing Dark Wizards," she responded with a wide grin. "And that is definitely why I'm still mad for you."

Harry nodded back in gratitude as he draped an arm around Ginny and they made their way towards the imposing bulk of the Willow, looming over the grassy knoll near the foot of the rocky outcrop upon which the castle sat. So many memories, both welcome and unwelcome.

"Besides," Ginny interrupted, shattering Harry's reverie. "Part of me always knew you wouldn't be able to fit back in. I mean, towards the end, you were kind of lousy at your job as Captain. How many Bludger injuries did you sustain in that final practice?"

"Shut it," Harry growled through gritted teeth, all previous gratitude and mushy feelings towards Ginny momentarily forgotten. He did not want to dwell on the number of times he'd taken his eyes off the Snitch in the last few practices and been walloped. Now it had been confirmed.

He'd been busted by Ginny staring right back.

...

With the grounds faintly illuminated by the brilliant red sunset and the thin lunar crescent, Harry and Ginny sat down a safe thirty metres from the Willow, and with nothing else to do until the other two arrived, stared up at the brilliantly lit Milky Way.

"Reminds me of the night I found out Sirius was innocent," Harry said aloud to the night. He felt rather than saw Ginny turn to him with a puzzled expression. "Over there, I mean, by the edge of the Forest. I told Hermione when we were watching ourselves with the Time Turner that I wished and hoped I'd never see the Dursleys again. Maybe that I could live with him – live in the country so we could see the sky. I always thought every time he saw the night sky it was a blessing for him." He felt Ginny's hand slide into his as he stared up at Orion's Belt. It was extremely tragic that Sirius never was able to live as a free man – like he, Harry, was now.

"It's not too late for Teddy," she said quietly, perfectly reading him as always. "And not for your kids either." Harry turned to look at her full on. "I know," he whispered back.

There was that blazing look again. Even though he'd never admitted it out loud, Harry was absolutely certain who the mother would be if that theoretical situation came to pass. He felt his cheeks warm up, devoutly grateful that Ron wasn't around to witness this particular charged moment. He couldn't ascertain in the darkness whether Ginny felt the embarrassment too, but judging from her even delivery (if she did feel it), she was coping with it very well. Not like Ron and Hermione who would probably blush so heatedly that surrounding objects would spontaneously catch fire if they were here instead of him and Ginny. With a sigh, he lay back to look at the constellations and planets floating in the inky blackness above him.

Unlike the Centaurs, he'd never understood nor set store by the appearances of the heavenly bodies, but there was no denying their hypnotism. His eyes were drawn to one of the brighter specks in the sky.

"That's Sirius," Ginny unexpectedly piped up. Harry's head spun to face her. "What the-"

"That star," she explained simply. "The Dog Star. Lupin told me about Sirius' family and the way they named relatives – like Andromeda – after stars."

Harry was flummoxed. They'd named Sirius after a star? He'd never noticed. Not to mention the ridiculous coincidence of him also being able to transform into a dog at will…..

"I….never knew," he admitted, embarrassed at his girlfriend's knowledge of such matters.

"Course he doesn't," shot back the easygoing voice Harry always woke up to in the morning. "I would ask you what the bloody hell you two were doing lying down in the grass almost invisible, but I don't think I want to know."

"Manners, Ron!" chided Hermione. As Harry got to his feet, he was almost bowled over by the rib-crushing hug he received from his almost-sister. His lungs yearning for air, he managed to choke out a "good to see you."

"How have you been?" she asked, pulling away. "How's Teddy?"

"Never better," said Ginny as Harry massaged his ribs carefully to check for fractures. "Teddy's good, though he did seem to have a habit of trying to look like us. We did get a few looks, didn't we Harry?"

"What?" said Harry thickly. "Oh, yeah." The less time they dwelt on the waitress incident, the better, as far as he was concerned. Then again, Ginny and Hermione would probably discuss it up in the Common Room once he and Ron had Disapparated back to Grimmauld Place.

"So how was your date at Hogsmeade?" he asked Hermione, but it was Ron who replied.

"Awesome," he chimed in. "Bumped into Lee and George – they're going into business together and have now bought Zonko's. So we had some celebratory drinks down at the Hog's Head with Abeforth."

"You old romantic," Harry rolled his eyes. "Since when was taking the girl you've fancied now for five years…."

"Three, Harry," said Ron sharply. Ginny snorted derisively.

"Bogrod's bollocks it was three," Harry shot back, raising his hands to heaven. "I saw you two in Third Year at Hogsmeade, all acting awkward before Malfoy began insulting you. And let's not even get started on Viktor." He saw with some satisfaction that Hermione was starting to shift her weight from foot to foot – a sure sign of embarrassment. Ron scowled back at him as Harry raised a sardonic eyebrow, daring him to deny it further. There was no further objection, so he ploughed on.

"Anyway…..since when was taking your girlfriend to the Hog's Head considered the ultimate romantic gesture? Very unhygienic, if I remember correctly. Unless you've had a change of personality of course, Hermione."

"Sorry," sighed Hermione with a smile at Harry. "I'm slipping."

Harry and Ginny laughed as a modest gust of wind shook the grass around their exposed outcrop where they were all standing. Behind them, the Whomping Willow trembled, the protests of its branches sounding almost like a low, menacing growl. Harry looked over to the solemn sight of the double grave situated a safe distance from the Willow, the tombstone standing upright like some sort of lifeless sentry.

"Anyway," Ginny broke the silence. "I'll stay here, Harry, if you want to do it by yourself." But Harry shook his head.

"Don't be silly, Ginny. You're now Teddy's godmother, too." The jubilant atmosphere that was always present in the air whenever the four of them met up again slowly dissipated as Harry and Ginny approached the dual graves of Teddy's parents. It had been Lupin's final wish to be laid to rest at Hogwarts, Harry knew, and naturally, Tonks was never going to leave his side. Not even in death.

Lighting his wand, he steadied himself as he read the inscription on the headstone of the last Marauder to survive.

 _In Loving Memory of_

 _ **REMUS JOHN LUPIN.**_

 _Born 10 March 1960._

 _Died 2 May 1998._

 _Father to Edward Remus Lupin (b. 10 April, 1998)_

 _It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers._

Harry liked that engraving – according to his boss, the Minister of Magic, Lupin had uttered that comment just minutes before he was killed, and Kingsley had deemed it fit to include on Lupin's tombstone. Not for the first time that day, a lump rose in Harry's throat as he looked down at the crude carving on the stone – that of a wolf, a dog and a stag chasing each other in circles beside the Whomping Willow. Below that, though, there was another inscription.

 _Mischief Managed._

Beside that inscription was that for Nymphadora Tonks. Harry found himself having unwelcome flashbacks to Godric's Hollow as Ginny knelt beside him, and whirled her wand, producing a fresh bunch of foxgloves. _Lupins. How appropriate_ , he thought idly as he caught them and planted them in the soft soil in front of the tombstone.

He couldn't quite remember later how long he'd knelt beside the grave, or what he'd whispered about Teddy, but as he straightened up, wiping away the small amount of moisture that had accumulated at the base of his eyes, he turned with a start to find Ron and Hermione also paying their respects behind him. He got to his feet and cleared his throat. "Er, shall, we?" He gestured towards the Whomping Willow, which he knew was now enchanted to act as a sort of memorial to Lupin in particular, but also to all the people who had died during the Battle of Hogwarts.

"I miss those days," sighed Hermione as she looked around at their surroundings.

"What, evading a fully-fledged Werewolf, having my leg mangled, and Harry being attacked by Dementors? Yeah, I really miss them too," said Ron sarcastically.

"Not that evening specifically. Just…..the three of us. Seeing Hagrid, walking about the grounds and lake…." Hermione tailed off as she stared around the abandoned knoll they were situated on, then up at the brilliantly illuminated Castle, Harry following her gaze. Yes, he definitely felt it too. (Especially the snatched, fleeting moments with Ginny in Sixth Year, which he was not under any circumstances going to tell Ron about. Unless he got too publicly lovey-dovey with Hermione, that was.)

Only this time, there was the addition of Ginny to the trio, and no serious threats or burdens looming over them anymore. He stared over at the spot where he and Sirius had held their first proper conversation; the first one where Harry was starting to see him as a parental figure and where, all too briefly, a hope of a brighter alternate future for them both had flared.

"You all right, Harry?" came the voice of Hermione from a long distance away; Harry realized with a shock that he'd been staring at the illuminated bulk of the castle for at least thirty seconds.

He let out a heartfelt, melancholy sigh as he turned to Ron, Hermione and Ginny's concerned expressions.

"I was just before thinking about Sirius. If only we'd Stunned Pettigrew or something…I was thinking before about that night – how, how he was anticipating the time he could walk through those doors as a free man." Alas, Sirius had never been able to experience that pleasure. Just like himself, Sirius was an outcast, someone who didn't belong in the household they grew up in, and both had found a pace they belonged to. And so too had Remus Lupin despite his condition.

There was a squeak as Hermione got close to the Willow, triggering some sort of proximity charm. As she huddled close to Ron, recovering from the fright, Harry saw it too.

An enormous list, written in some sort of golden fluorescent substance somewhere between ink and tree sap had appeared, listing the names of the fatalities during the Battle of Hogwarts. As they started to stare at the list, it disappeared as though drawn into the bark itself, where it was replaced by animated drawings accompanied by text narrating the early years of Remus Lupin's life, including the attack by Greyback, and then the planting of the Whomping Willow.

...

It was some time later, with all four huddled under a blanket produced by Hermione and reveling in her signature bluebell flames, when the presentation honouring Lupin finished. Ron had just informed Harry that Madam Puddifoot's, also known as the tea shop from Hell, had accidentally burnt down, which had cheered him up considerably.

Turning away from the Whomping Willow back towards Hogwarts, Hermione smiled sleepily as she rested her head on Ron's shoulder. Not for the first time, Harry was feeling a remarkable sense of déjà-vu as he recalled Ron and Hermione being huddled together at the foot of the Whomping Willow while he and Sirius conversed. He'd long had a sneaking suspicion that Ron had been making a manful effort of pretending to be in even greater pain than in reality to attract sympathetic attention from Hermione. Nasty though his leg injury had been, it was hardly a case requiring amputation, as Ron had morosely said that evening ( _"It's too late, it's ruined. It'll have to be chopped off._ ") He'd also suspected that Hermione had willingly and knowingly swallowed that falsehood hook, line and sinker.

"So what are you two up to next?" she queried, pulling Harry away from nostalgic reminiscences.

"Seeing Hagrid," piped up Ginny on Harry's right. "Hopefully will see Slughorn there, too – you know how frequently he'll pop over to Hagrid's for a bottle or four, right Hermione? I think we can credit Harry and his Felix potion for that particular friendship. Can't we?" she added, elbowing Harry teasingly.

Hastily assuming a look of injured innocence, Harry turned to face the other three. "How cruel, Ginny. As if!" Inwardly, he chuckled. As always, Ginny was likely correct. It had been far too long since he'd visited Hagrid properly, given Auror training. The last time he'd seen Hagrid had been the first weekend of November, and that was merely a case of bumping into him in the Quidditch Stadium to cheer on Ginny for her first game as Gryffindor Captain. And as for seeing Slughorn, it had been far too awkward after having coerced the Potions Master into giving up the memory of Tom Riddle querying about Horcruxes via Felix Felicis. Then again, Ginny had always got on surprisingly well with him (probably because she reminded the elderly Professor of his mother, Harry had long suspected.)

"It was great having Luna commentate again," he said with a grin. "Last time we were here, right Ron?"

At that, Ron let out a great snort. "It was great with the Gulping Plimpies safety notice…," he chortled. "Even though we were on _land_. That, and insulting Zacharias Smith again."

"That's Luna," said Hermione wryly as Harry snickered alongside Ron at the fond memory.

Snuggling again into Ron's side, she suddenly let out an exclamation as she looked at her watch, her mane of hair flying and giving both Ron and Ginny whiplash.

"Oh, Merlin, it's far too late. I've got so much reading to do and I've only got to Chapter Six!"

"Hermione," said Ginny through gritted teeth. "We're only going to be discussing Chapter Two with McGonagall tomorrow morning."

"Yes, but still…..Goodnight Harry!" She waved at him in a familiar frantic, semi-panicked state.

Ron, too, had got up. "I'll walk you up there."

"Oh please Ron, it's not that far," she objected, her cheeks even in the dim light visibly darkening with flustered pleasure.

"You know you like it. Besides…." At this, Ron gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Dean and Seamus are probably up there waiting to say hello and bombard us with sweets. Can't remember the last time I saw them, actually."

"Ron, if my dad saw how many sweets his little girl puts away around you in a day, he'd probably strap you to a chair and probe inside your mouth with a…."

"Skrill?" Ron queried, just a hint of fear creeping into his voice as Hermione laughed warmly, giving her somewhat alarmed boyfriend a peck on the lips. "No, _drill_ ," she corrected him patiently. "You know Mum and Dad like you, Ron. After….everything you did, that's hardly surprising….."

"See you in a couple, Ron," Harry called out as the pair stumbled up the path back towards the repaired covered bridge. Ron waved his spare hand in affirmation as Harry turned back to Ginny.

"How about it then?" she beamed at him. "Hagrid's sound good before bed?"

Harry nodded in affirmation, smiling himself at the thought.

"Hagrid's it is."


	3. Older and wiser wizards than she

_Chapter 3: Older and wiser wizards than she._

 _A/N: Again, a reference to a film included. I loved Jim Broadbent's portrayal so much, I couldn't resist referencing the scene where Slughorn talks about Francis the fish, given to him by Lily Evans. The title of this chapter is a reference to a line uttered by Dumbledore about Ginny in Chamber of Secrets._

"Ginevra, my girl!" boomed Slughorn as Ginny entered first. And don't tell me you've brought along….yes you have….Harry m'boy! Come and join us….."

The last part of that sentence, Harry noticed, was distinctly slurred. As he tried to choke out a reply, Hagrid moved towards him, and clapped him on the back so hard that he surely would have fallen flat on his face if Ginny hadn't steadied him at the last moment.

"Harry!" Hagrid rumbled, sounding close to tears. "It's bin' too long, too long." Harry's suspicion was confirmed as Hagrid reached for his oversized handkerchief, blowing noisily with the volume and sound of a trumpeting elephant.

"So how's life treatin' yeh,' Harry? It was Valentine' Day, after all." Hagrid's bushy beard trembled, a sure sign he was grinning. Ignoring the heated flush erupting up his neck and cheeks, Harry explained what they'd done before coming to Hogwarts.

"Pity," said Hagrid thickly, swaying considerably. "I'd have thought the romance today could have been capped off with a signed photo." He winked at Ginny. "After all, _she_ liked the idea of a signed photo from Harry, back then, didn't yeh?" Harry scowled as Ginny raised an eyebrow coolly. If Hagrid had decided to raise the time Draco Malfoy and Lockhart had misinterpreted his conversation with Colin Creevey more than six years previously, he'd presumably drunk to considerable excess. Hopefully his bladder would hold.

"Considering I was murdering chickens and communicating with a murderous teenage sociopath that year, let's just say that I needed to sort out my priorities," Ginny retorted, but with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. Hagrid nodded slowly "Fair enough," he muttered. "So how's she bin goin', Horace?"

The rotund Head of Slytherin House nodded enthusiastically. 'Fantastically," he gushed. "As good as Harry, I'd have said, or lovely Lily for that matter. Appropriate, isn't it?" Apparently finding what he'd said hilarious, he wheezed loudly, before a deafening burp rudely interrupted proceedings. Patting his considerable stomach gingerly, he looked around guiltily before continuing his gush over all things Ginny. Although he hadn't yet mentioned the Slug Club, Harry knew it had returned in full force, given Ginny had told him about the latest meeting (after which Slughorn had told Ginny he'd make a favourable pitch to Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies.)

...

Some time had passed during which Harry had updated the two teachers on his progress in training, and he was recalling a very similar night in Hagrid's hut. Hagrid had finally succumbed after his fourth tankard and fallen asleep, and Slughorn was reaching the drunken stage where his mannerisms were becoming exaggeratedly sombre and deliberated. Ginny had, much to Slughorn's delight, demonstrated a magic trick that Fred and George had demonstrated to her. Slughorn, suitably impressed in his mead-sodden state, had awarded twenty points to Gryffindor.

As he looked around the crowded interior of Hagrid's, Harry felt himself warmed and amused considerably by the understanding that as a result of his Felix-taking, Hagrid and Slughorn had happily built up a much closer relationship and rapport for each other. Of course, it had been coincidental, but even so….

However, this epiphany of sorts prompted a far less positive one. He'd extracted the memory from Slughorn, certain in the knowledge that he would be unable to recall that evening. The evening's proceedings had produced sharp pangs of guilt at not having told Slughorn. Perhaps emboldened by the glass he'd accepted of Madam Rosmerta's oak-matured mead, he cleared his throat.

"Do you want to hear a secret, Professor?"

"Yes? Oh, I s'pose," murmured Slughorn, lolling in his seat. At that, Ginny shot him a puzzled look, but Harry nodded reassuringly at her.

"It's about Voldemort," Harry paused as Slughorn winced at the name. "I knew about the Horcruxes." Slughorn's face became a collage of emotion: shock, shame and even, if Harry were guessing correctly, relief.

"I told you, did I? Well, I must've. He's dead after all, thanks to you." He shook his head absent-mindedly. "How….how….. _oh._ Aragog's burial!" His eyes filled with tears almost instantly as Harry pulled his chair closer to him.

"If only I'd been braver," he whispered to himself, staring into the flames of Hagrid's fireplace. "If only….who knows how many I could've saved if I'd…."

"What mattered is you told me," said Harry sharply. "Via a little bit of Felix Felicis." Beside him, Ginny nodded her affirmation as she passed a spare handkerchief to Slughorn.

Wiping his eyes, Slughorn looked appalled but he eventually let out a deep, booming laugh.

"You've got a nerve, m'boy!" His face grew far more serious as he leaned in. "Dumbledore put you up to it, I assume."

"Yes, sir." Harry barely noticed his resumption of the use of 'sir.' For the first time in months, Harry felt like a rebellious pupil caught in wrongdoing. "We had to stop him – it was the only way to do it."

As Slughorn nodded slowly, he stared back into the fire, tears welling up in his eyes again.

"I know you had to. But I was such a fool," he sniffed. "Taken in by charm, by a young, intelligent and curious mind. Such a bright, brilliant boy he was….."

"Professor," Harry jumped as Ginny joined in the conversation. "You're far from the only person Tom Riddle tricked, fooled and manipulated. You probably don't know this, but remember….remember when the Chamber was opened last? You must've seen it in the paper; Dumbledore being suspended by the Board of Governors."

A cold, harsh look came over Slughorn.

"Yes I did," he replied, wiping his brow of sweat. "I didn't want to know about it at the time. Brought back too many memories of when we found _her_." Harry and Ginny shared a glance; Harry knew she, too was thinking about Murtle's murder, worse though for her in that Tom had gleefully described the killing to her as she lay expiring in the Chamber.

"The person who opened it last time was _me_ ," Ginny finished, in an almost matter-of-fact manner, though Harry noticed the trembling enunciation at the end of her sentence. To his knowledge, it was the first time she'd described her possession to anyone outside of the DA or the Order.

"Tom Riddle used the Horcrux he'd created after Myrtle's murder to possess me, and use me to unleash the Basilisk and attack students. He lured me in, and before I knew it, there….there was no way out." Her arm gripped Harry's as she swallowed nervously. Harry gave her a reassuring nod and she ploughed on. He knew she was still upset about Lucius Malfoy recently pleading for immunity in return for cooperation in catching the last few missing Death Eaters, given what he'd done with the Diary. Yet again, he felt a gush of affection for her strength of will.

"I….never knew," said Slughorn in a small voice, staring at Ginny with seemingly newfound respect. "I'm so…"

"But you know what happened next?" Ginny cut across him, some steely determination being injected into her voice as she looked her Potions Master right in the eye. "Harry saved me, and Dumbledore told me something important. He said I should _never_ , not for one waking moment, blame myself for what happened. When I wrote in that diary to Tom, confessed all my insecurities, he promised me friendship, respect…everything. He used that against me, because that's what he always did. Used people." Breathing heavily, and pausing only to take a sip of Firewhisky from her glass, she continued.

"' _Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.'_ That's what Dumbledore said about me at the time, and he's right." Slughorn opened his mouth to object, but Ginny cut across him again. Harry was impressed – she clearly had _a lot_ to get off her chest.

"You were one of them, Professor. From what Harry's told me of that memory he got from you, at least though you directly warned him how harmful splitting someone's soul is. And as for me, I sat on the truth for months while people kept getting attacked. You know why? Because he'd threaten me and suggest I'd go to Azkaban if I told anyone, or that he'd ensure someone close to me died. When I resisted, he made me attack Hermione."

"But Miss Weasley," Slughorn finally managed. "I sat on that memory for half a century! Rather different."

"True," said Harry, deciding now was the time to cut in and let Ginny catch her breath. "But my mistakes got my godfather killed. And a mistake of mine nearly got Hermione killed last year."

Harry," Ginny protested, but he interrupted her. "You know it's true, Ginny, I made mistakes and people paid for them. But we can't undo that. What matters is we stopped him." He turned to Slughorn.

"If you'd continued to deny us that memory, my mother _would_ have died for nothing, and you _would_ have disgraced her. But you handed it over, in the end."

"And you fought him, too," Ginny recalled, nodding at Slughorn reassuringly. When virtually all of your house evacuated or fought for Voldemort, you faced your old demons and fought him. Just like I did, Professor. You were a great role model for the Slytherins."

Slughorn dabbed his eyes, then leaned forward and let out a genuine, watery smile.

"I was so overjoyed when you two got together. I always see the signs early – and I definitely saw them early in Lily and James. I didn't know your parents well, at all, but still recognised they'd be together for life, Miss Weasley." Blowing his nose again he continued.

"I won't be here forever, but please do try and pop by at some point in future years. An old man's creature comforts can only take him so far without his ex-students."

"We'll try," Harry nodded affirmatively. "You might see me next year Professor - I've been thinking about an offer by Professor McGonagall. I could come in for a few special lectures, maybe."

He'd started thinking about McGonagall's offer again, perhaps triggered by the nostalgia of once again wandering about the Hogwarts grounds. He was utterly certain his path was the right one, but it _wouldn't hurt_ to see more of the place where he'd experienced so much in his short life.

Then again, it would have to wait until after Ginny graduated with her NEWTs. It would be a decidedly unseemly sight if the pair of them were caught, say, kissing fiercely in the staffroom.

Or in the Room of Requirement…..

"And do you still have that empty fishbowl in your office?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, why?" said Slughorn, scratching his head sleepily. At that, Ginny turned to Harry with a sly grin. Knowing what she was suggesting, he gave her a stealthy thumbs-up. Slughorn after all had been rendered distraught when the magical fish Lily had given him had vanished the same Halloween night she was murdered.

With the dawning of a new, hopeful age, it was time to rectify that.

"Fishbowls aren't meant to be left empty forever. I'll make sure it's filled again –you have my word. And if there's a wedding, you'll definitely be invited, sir."

"Thank you," slurred Slughorn, rubbing his eyes. "That was such beautiful magic, so talented, she was…."

And like a candle snuffed out, he too was asleep, leaving Harry alone with Ginny and the thought whirling through his mind.

Marriage.

 _Did she mean that?_

 _..._

Harry and Ginny made their way away from Hogwarts and Hagrid's in silence, their fingers laced together.

"Did…did you mean that?" Harry finally summoned up all his reserves of courage and looked her directly in the eye. He felt the pressure change in his ears - a sign they were leaving the protections of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry behind them.

"Yes, I did." As Harry opened his mouth to say…..well, he didn't know exactly _what_ , she gave a yank on his arm, forcing him to stop, and she put a finger to his lips as she leaned in. Goosebumps erupted across his entire body.

"Shush!" she whispered, her pupils dilating animatedly as she examined his facial expression diligently. "Oh, come on, Harry. It's been obvious to anyone and everyone that you and I are never going away. Who needs an official engagement anyway? So boring, uptight, and expensive, too."

Harry's heart was now doing a Weird Sisters drumroll against his chest cavity.

"I…I suppose," he whispered back, trying not to break eye contact. "I mean….you've mostly been right about you and I since we started going out…so…yeah."

Ginny's other hand slipped out of his as she backed off, folding her arms tightly across her chest in a manner similar to her mother.

"I suppose, so….yeah?" she mocked in a sing-song voice, looking indignant. "So much for the knight in shining armour that I fancied at age eleven."

Harry turned away, cursing himself. Him and his nerves, always turning him into an ineloquent, stuttering idiot around girls.

Especially this girl.

"Talk about unromantic," she sniffed. "Then again, what did I expect from _you_?"

"You're right," Harry said resignedly, his incredibly slow brain finally concluding she'd been merely teasing him. Hermione would've been appalled at how slow he still was in these situations. He kicked the ground.

"I'm just Harry. Bit of a tosser, really."

Ginny nodded, biting her lip as she gave Harry the sort of look that made him feel like he was being X-rayed. Aside from Dumbledore, only Ginny could master that look.

And he sure as hell had never been in love with Dumbledore.

"Yes, you are," she whispered. "And a clueless tosser is just fine by me." With a flash of hair, her lips were on his.

It wasn't like the kiss she'd given to him on his seventeenth. It wasn't the frantic, hurried passion of two people with too much emotion bottled up and all too little time to express it in. It was deep, but smooth, that of two lovers secure in the knowledge there would always be another time, and another golden day of peace ahead.

A chilled breeze whistled its way through the grounds and the Whomping Willow groaned in the background as Harry pulled her in, tighter. Absent-mindedly, he noted that Ginny still tasted of the Firewhisky she'd consumed. After a few more seconds, they reluctantly broke apart, Harry shivering in the unexpectedly cold breeze. Although he'd managed three quarters of a year without seeing her, the knowledge of not seeing her again for at least a fortnight until Ron's 19th birthday celebrations still hurt.

"Thanks for everything today, Harry," she whispered. With a final smile, she turned and headed back towards Hogwarts as Harry pictured Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place clearly in his mind, turned on the spot and vanished into thin air.


End file.
